old set of stairs swiftly and silently, arriving on the third floor. Katic still had the wad of keys in her hand, and she grabbed one of the keys, letting the others fall away, holding them so they wouldn’t make any noise. She came to a stop outside Apartment 3D and slid the key silently into the lock, the floorboard under her foot creaking as she stepped on it. In the same instant, Archer pulled her to one side and against the wall in a flash, thinking instinctively. If anyone was inside, they would have heard the noise.
The way he had moved her meant they were close, face-to-face, her back against the wall. He looked at her, putting his finger to his lips, and they both listened, tense. The two of them stared at each other up close for a moment that felt like a minute. Moving aside, Archer nodded and she twisted the key, opening the door. The two of them moved inside quickly, weapons up. The hallway was clear. Archer waited for a little girl to appear, rushing over to her mother.
But she didn’t.
Archer shut the door behind them quietly. They both stood there in silence, listening, pistols up, in the aim. Even if someone was inside somewhere, a homeowner could tell if the atmosphere was different somehow. Katic moved forward and swept the place quickly, Archer staying where he was by the door. She reappeared soon after, looking relieved. There was no one here. They were clear. Katic holstered her sidearm, nodding to Archer, who lowered his and tucked into his belt, hidden under the coat, the safety catch on.
‘Turtle,’ Katic suddenly called.
Archer looked at her, then heard a rustling and scuffle from the room next door. The next moment, the door was pulled back and a girl in pink pyjamas appeared, running over to her mother. She swept her daughter up into her arms, giving her a strong hug and kiss and exhaling a long sigh of relief.
‘Turtle?’ Archer asked, watching the mother and child with a smile.
‘That’s our code word,’ Katic said, looking at her daughter proudly. ‘What do we do when I say turtle?’
‘We find a hiding place and curl up in a ball. Like a turtle,’ the girl said, beaming, hugging her mother and giving her a kiss.
Archer smiled. It was a good plan. Katic was well-prepared and he liked her even more for it. The two of them turned, and headed off to the bedroom, Katic telling her daughter they needed to pack up for a trip. Archer took the opportunity to walk into the living area and examine the apartment around him.
It was cosy, new enough to still be well-maintained but old enough to have some atmosphere. The interior was lots of golden lights and wooden floorboards and comfy-looking furniture. Given the East Village’s history, he figured this single apartment was probably once home to maybe ten or twenty immigrants fresh from Poland or the Ukraine, long before the hipsters and artists arrived later in the 20 century. Maybe it had been an art studio once. It had that feeling of quiet focus. It was a nice place, just about as good an apartment a mother raising a child in New York City with a monthly Bureau pay-check could afford.
Aside from the living area, there seemed to be two bedrooms and a bathroom. As Katic rustled away in the girl’s room, packing some clothes, Archer walked forward and looked closer at the decorations and ornaments in the living room. Plenty of books, which showed Katic was a reader. All kinds too. He saw Shakespeare, Faust, Virgil. The classics. Then some fiction to balance it out. Clancy, Connelly, Child. No chick-lit. Education and thrillers, knowledge and adrenaline.
Below the books, he saw a picture frame holding a photograph of Katic with a man and the child. The father. He had to be. His daughter had his smile. He was young, mid-twenties, around Archer’s age and looked like a nice guy. The three of them were together on a playground, smiling at the camera, the brown and golden leaves on the trees and on the ground around them showing it was autumn, or fall as the Americans called it. Archer glanced around, but there were no traces in the apartment of the man in the photo. He didn’t know what had happened, but he guessed that smile on his face had faded at some point since.
He turned to find the girl standing there, staring